'Babies' Continue To Upstage Newman In Practical-joke Race

It's usually a matter of last resort before you'll approach one of those portable toilets at the race track. But the one in the infield at Summitt Point, W.Va., certainly had its following during the July Fourth weekend last year.

There it stood, in all its whiteness, among the trees and motor homes. And there they stood, auto racing fans, waiting for a chance to get their picture taken next to it.

Chris Kneifel and Wally Dallenbach Jr. just stood by and smiled. Earlier, the two placed a large star on it and wrote on the door: ''Paul Newman's Dressing Room. Appointments only.''

''It was incredible,'' Kneifel said. ''People were standing next to it, posing for photos. Here you had the Jones family, from generic-town U.S.A., posing in front of a toilet.

''Paul never said anything about it, but it was about 20 feet from his motor home. He couldn't have missed it.''

The first salvo had been fired.

The day before, Dallenbach and Kneifel, auto racing stars of the future, were sharing a few beers with Newman, movie star of the present.

The three, who were to drive the following day in a Trans-Am race, were trading tales in Newman's motor home when the actor brought up practical jokes he had played on Robert Redford.

''He was telling Chris and I how he was so good at practical jokes, at how he and Redford always used to play them on each other,'' Dallenbach said. ''He was sitting there, telling us how good he was, how nobody ever upstaged him.'' Newman told of the time when, on location, he stuffed thousands of live chickens into Redford's motor home. Live chickens.

Dallenbach and Kneifel, brash 20-year-olds, were not impressed.

''He was quite amused with himself,'' Kneifel said. ''He told several stories of what he and Redford did. He was sitting there patting himself on the back, saying, 'Yeah, I'm probably the best practical joker in the world.' He thought he was hot.'' At about the same time Newman was patting himself on the back, Kneifel caught Dallenbach's eyes.

''We didn't even have to say anything, we're so tuned in to each other,'' Kneifel said. ''It wasn't three minutes later that we had gotten out of that motor home and did a number on his rental car, crossing a whole bunch of wires.''

Effectively, the air conditioning switch would turn on the radio. The directional signal might trigger the high beams. Goodness knows what the ignition switch did.

''It must have been midnight till he got that car started,'' Kneifel said. That's how it all began. Good-natured one-upmanship among friends and fellow race car drivers.

''They've tried a lot of things this year,'' Newman said. ''But we've still got a few things up our sleeves, too.''

Said Dallenbach, with a sly grin: ''What we've got in store for him will be a pretty good one.''

Following their outhouse caper, Dallenbach and Kneifel closed out 1985 by sending Newman, 61, a gift certificate to the famed Forest Lawn cemetery.

Earlier this year, Dallenbach and Kneifel ''acquired'' some stationary from Newman's Nissan Racing team and sent out a release announcing that Newman's cars would be equipped with oxygen and a co-driver.

''I don't know why this is such a big deal,'' Newman was quoted in the mock release. ''We raced with riding mechanics when I first started competing.''

Eventually, Newman caught on. There was a war going on here.

At an ensuing event, Newman contracted a banner-towing service to fly a ''Chris and Wally, call Mommy'' sign above the scene of the Detroit Grand Prix.

Said Dallenbach: ''His attempts to get us back have been feeble.''

A few days after the race in Detroit, the three were scheduled to be interviewed on a television station in Chicago. Kneifel and Dallenbach came prepared -- armed with a walker for Newman. This time, though, the joke was on them, when Newman hired a model to present the two with diapers and baby bottles on stage.

''That one was good,'' Dallenbach said. ''But then we came back with the senior citizens at Elkhart.''

And that may have been the best one of all.

Before an August Trans-Am event at Elkhart Lake, Wis., Dallenbach and Kneifel recruited about two dozen elderly women from a senior citizens club in Chicago. When the bus arrived at the track, the women, wearing ''Paul Newman Fan Club'' T-shirts, were guided by Dallenbach and Kneifel toward Newman's motor home.

''It was so easy, it was almost like taking candy from a baby,'' Kneifel said as he recalled Newman standing there until each woman received her promised kiss.